Chris Gill: Dr. Joseph Mattioli, the last maverick of auto racing, is gone

Chris Gill

Monday

Jan 30, 2012 at 12:01 AMJan 30, 2012 at 8:02 PM

Dr. Joseph Mattioli, the Philadelphia dentist who parlayed his earnings into Eastern Pennsylvania real estate to build and operate Pocono Raceway, died Thursday at age 86. He wasn’t simply a race track owner, he was cut from a cloth long since vanished in following generations.

The last maverick in auto racing is gone.

Dr. Joseph Mattioli, the Philadelphia dentist who parlayed his earnings into Eastern Pennsylvania real estate to build and operate Pocono Raceway, died Thursday, Jan. 26, at age 86. He wasn’t simply a race track owner; he was cut from a cloth long since vanished in following generations.

Mattioli followed the second wave of auto racing pioneers –– the likes of William H.G. France, Cameron Argetsinger and Wally Parks –– but did things a little differently. He was a Navy medic who attended Temple University thanks to the G.I. bill and started his own dentistry practice in Eastern Pennsylvania.

After talking with a group who wanted funding to build a race track in the Keystone State’s budding vacation Mecca, he eventually tired of their mismanagement, cut them out and constructed the oddest of race tracks: a 2.5-mile triangle with three variations of banking and pitch in the turns, each one a tribute to great circuits like Indianapolis, Trenton and Milwaukee. That he put such a personal stamp on his creation says a lot.

Three years after its creation, Pocono Raceway became part of IndyCar’s triple crown, and in 1974, Big Bill France granted him a NASCAR Winston Cup Series date, which would ultimately pay dividends. By 1982, Pocono had two dates every season because A) the track was close to markets like Philadelphia, New Jersey and New York and B) NASCAR wasn’t the major attraction it is now, and it struggled to find footing in the Northeast. Despite less than massive crowds, Mattioli stuck by France, and in turn, the France family reciprocated.

In the 1990s and 2000s, under mounting pressure to sell the quirky track nestled among idle ski resorts in the summer, Mattioli refused, knowing full well that had the track fallen into the clutches of Speedway Motorsports Inc., it would lose at least one of the two dates. The worse case scenario was sliding into the “inactive tracks” file in the NASCAR media guide to open up the schedule for events at shiny, new cookie-cutter tracks perched in the suburbs of major markets.

Mattioli didn’t budge.

Not only did he stand his ground, he constantly improved the facility in his own image. No advertising agencies, minimal corporate involvement and an emphasis on family collaboration for the running of the track without much turnover. In fact, Mattioli, who used to pack heat at the track on race weekends, handed the reins to one of his seven grandchildren in August. No one knew that was coming save for “Doc” and his wife of 63 years, Rose.

Mattioli, confined to a wheelchair, called the family into the deadline media room where he announced “it is about time I got the hell out of here,” and passed the metaphorical torch to Brandon Igdalsky, who prior to entering the media center was unaware he was to be named the new president and CEO. That’s how Mattioli rolled, and as a result served as patriarch of the last truly independent race track in NASCAR, and one on a very short and dwindling list around the country.

Three years ago, he installed solar panels on 25 acres of land to create this country’s first fully solar-powered sports facility in America, which also feeds energy to local and regional power stations. Who does that? In racing, no one would, or could even if they were inclined. Imagine if Mattioli presented this idea to a board of directors at SMI or International Speedway Corp. After the pitch, they’d slowly close their mouths and have the man with his white fluffy chinstrap beared put in a straight jacket.

When you visit Pocono, you realize immediately it’s anything but typical. I’ve been there every year since 1994 as a fan and member of the press corps, and every year the same faces greet you at the gates, concessions and welcome desks. Every year. Like many others, I’ve watched the Mattioli family grow up. Where else does that happen? The staff, many of whom are direct descendants of the Doc and Rose, aren’t pretentious or looking to climb a corporate ladder, they’re there because it’s what the family does. The place has a homey feel that not even my home track, Watkins Glen International, can mimic.

It’s all because of Mattioli’s swashbuckling. Racing used to be heavily populated by unique people, characters and big dreamers each with their own way of doing things. It’s why the sport moved out of obscurity. Today, too many people have the same haircuts, wear the same clothes/sunglasses (seriously, why the sunglasses all the time? Are you people moles?) and speak the same tired corporate lingo.

Mattioli’s death was more than the loss of a great man, it was the end of an era. Mr. Igdalsky, you have a lot to live up to sir, but your mentor was unlike anyone else. Real mavericks are those who aren’t trying to be different, they just are.

* Chris Gill, who covers auto racing for The Leader in New York, can be reached at cmgill@the-leader.com.

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